The Forgotten
by Daebak
Summary: During the Great Battle of Hogwarts, there were fifty casualties; fifty precious lives were ruined as they fought for something they believed in. But out of the many that fell, only a few were remembered. Here are the stories of a few in the background who lay, forgotten, amidst the long rows of the dead.


**The Forgotten**

Ollie Huberton scrabbled madly along the rocky walls of the tunnel, heading directly for the narrow strip of light at the end. He had escaped from the rest of the group – they underestimated him because he was only a first year, he had concluded bitterly. He deserved a chance to fight and to protect his school. Nobody would notice that he was gone. After all, _he_ was a _nobody_. Just a small, scrawny second year that no one liked.

He would prove it to them. And when he came out on top, his bullying classmates would finally see him as a hero. And boy, would he laugh at them! Nobody would ever dare to bully him again. Ollie would become the popular, tough, battle-scarred hero that everybody liked.

Finally reaching the end, he gently pushed open the hard, wooden back of the portrait. Immediately, loud cries assaulted his ears and he scurried back in fear, heart pounding madly in his chest.

_Think of the glory._

Bracing himself, Ollie stepped out inconspicuously into the war-ridden halls of his school.

Frantically, people rushed around him, not bothering to spare a glance at the small figure who barely reached their waists. Ollie then hurried into a corridor that seemed relatively empty, and ducked from a shower of glass that pelted the floor with its sharp pieces.

Cursing, he looked down at his hands to check for injuries.

He did not see the large, hairy foot that descended from above. He did not even have time to feel the pain as the giant's large foot crushed every bone, every organ in his tiny body in a split second.

Grunting in mild annoyance, the bearded giant wiped his feet roughly on the floor and continued on.

* * *

Panting heavily, Josephine crouched behind the crumbled remains of the stone column that had once stood tall. _I kissed Alan Dirkson here last week_, she thought tiredly. _I wonder if he's still alive_.

Desperately shaking her head to get rid of her rather morbid thoughts, she peered around the corner of her hiding place. Horrified yells and a continuous stream of spells resonated from the floor below and above her, but she could not hear any noise from the area where she was currently in.

However, the peace only lasted for an instant.

She jumped and barely suppressed a shriek as a large crystal ball crashed down from above and onto the floor a couple feet in front of her. Moments later, she faintly heard the gleeful whoops of her former Divination teacher, Professor Trelawney.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Jo knelt on the dirty ground and muttered a quick prayer under her breath.

"There's no use for that, pretty."

Even as she spun around to face the deep cackling voice, she knew she had just uttered her last words. There was a flash of bright red light, and she knew no more.

The masked figure tutted pitifully as it viciously kicked at the crumpled body on the floor. "Such a pretty little thing. I'd hate to have your family cry over your cold, dead body – no, that won't do. I won't destroy your body myself. We aren't that heartless, you see. So I'll just – "

With just a rapid flick of his wand, her slender body transformed into a small slip of paper. Scarlet ink spread over the paper as it wrote words in a long, thin cursive.

"I was quite good at transfiguration, you know. Too bad I hated that old hag, McGonagall," the Death Eater droned as he continued to wave his wand lazily over the piece of parchment. "The charm will last for as long as I want it to. After the Dark Lord begins his reign, I'll just send you over to your parents..."

He gave his wand a final flick.

"For a final goodbye. I just know they'll take good care of you." With another cackle, he crumpled up the paper and thrust it into the folds of his robes.

_If you ever want to see your daughter again, burn this._

* * *

"Stop it! Don't touch her!" Sarah screamed desperately as three muscular men pinned her friend to the dirty stone floor of the dungeon. They had run here to hide, not believing that the professors knew of a safer place than the secret corners of Hogwarts itself.

In their opinions, the professors did not deserve their trust after the events that had taken place this year. They had just entered their second year – however, Hogwarts was not the haven they had always imagined it to be.

Quietly, they had snuck into former Headmaster Snape's office, nervously giggling that no one, not even Death Eaters, would want to step a foot in there if they could help it.

But they _had_ found them. How? She did not know.

Because Ellen had been closer to the door, they had grabbed her first. In a moment of fear, Sarah had shrunk back from their searching hands – and had she just stayed silent, she knew that they would never have found her. But Sarah was not about to let her friend face her imminent doom alone. She was not a coward.

They would die fighting together.

So she had leapt out from the dark shadows and yelled to attract their attention.

"Stop it! You cowards! You dirty Death Eaters!"

The three men whipped around and let Ellen go. Sobbing quietly, she ran to where Sarah was, and they clung to each other desperately. Even as Sarah quickly observed her surroundings, her heart sank – they were cornered.

"Be brave," Sarah whispered, as Ellen trembled in her arms. "We – I don't think we'll survive. But… But let's go down fighting. Like all those people up there. Let's be brave."

The Death Eater on the far left side sneered at their soft conversation.

"Sharing your last words?"

Shaking her head defiantly with a courage she never knew she possessed, Sarah said loudly, "You wouldn't dare hurt children."

Three identical smirks appeared on the men's faces. "You think we wouldn't hurt _children_?" The last word was spit out in a mocking tone. "Do you know how many children, much younger than you, we raped and tortured? How many we stripped of innocence? How many we let slowly burn and plead for help? We forced them to watch their parents die – some had to kill them themselves! 'No, Mummy, no Daddy! Please don't let them hurt us!'" They laughed in pleasure as the two girls paled.

Sarah shivered, staring at the people she never believed could be so evil.

From beside her, Ellen spoke up in a trembling voice. "You're heartless."

"We're heartless?" the blond Death Eater repeated coldly. "You may consider it that. We may not have heart. But we have one thing you do not have right now. We have power."

"And we decide if you live or die." With those words, he winked at the two others, waiting by his side.

"Let's have some fun."

* * *

"Run, Ralph, run! For Merlin's sake, run faster!" Joseph Ebony hurtled towards the Forbidden Forest, wand ready in his hand. Behind him, his younger brother was huffing and puffing, falling more and more behind.

Spinning around to check on his brother, Joseph caught a glimpse of the once-safe castle. His heart wrenched with horror as he saw tall tower, where his dormitory was located, collapse under the brutal attacks of the Death Eaters.

As he waited, Ralph caught up to him and slumped to the ground. "I don't think I can run _any_ farther – "

"Come _on!_" With an impatient wrench, Joseph hoisted his brother up onto his back, and then took off running away from the horrible sight.

"If you – ever – tell mom – or my friends – that you gave me – a piggyback ride – I'll – totally – kill you right off!" Ralph gasped between each bump.

"I sure hope that you'll get the chance, Ralphie," Joseph grunted, sweat pouring down his face. He fought the urge to swear as his brother's dirty-blond hair whipped at his eyes. But the forest loomed closer than ever as he continued running, and inside him grew a small sliver of hope.

The long grass whipped around his bare feet as he sped up, shoving his wand deep into the pocket of his robes. He had not had time to dress properly when the attacks had begun. He had hastily grabbed his younger brother out of the Great Hall to escape from the danger that had been inevitable.

The moon that loomed over his head seemed to watch him and track him like a spotlight. However, it was suddenly obscured from view from the spiky, dark leaves of the grand trees.

They had finally reached the forest.

Joseph hoisted his brother off his back as he took his first step into the edge of the forest. With a loud 'thump', Ralph tumbled to the ground, cursing vehemently. "Hey, you could have done that a little more gently, you know – "

"Shh!"

A prickle of uneasiness crept over Joseph as he and his brother crouched behind a large, ominous-looking tree. Each snap of a branch or a rustle of a leaf sent jolts of panic up his spine.

Ralph pouted, but obeyed, crouching down and leaning onto his older brother's legs. Joseph could see the grim reflection of the burning castle in Ralph's dark blue eyes.

_He's too young to see all this_, he thought, closing his eyes in sadness. _He hasn't seen the real Hogwarts yet. He hasn't been to Hogsmade, or the Three Broomsticks, or had his first Firewhiskey. He hasn't even had his first crush yet._

An unfamiliar burning sensation tingled its way up his chest and tightened against his throat as these thoughts hit him like a tidal-wave.

Joseph hid his sob too late, even as he desperately pressed his closed fist tightly against his mouth. Ralph looked up in shock as his strong, stoic brother started to gasp and tremble before his eyes. Hesitantly, Ralph stood up and hugged the taller teen around his waist, feeling shaking hands clutch at his shoulders. Muffled sobs echoed around the dark clearing as the two brothers held each other in the midst of the raging war.

A piercing scream rang clearly across the wide field. Ralph shivered against Joseph's chest, and clung tighter to him.

"Don't worry, Ralphie," Joseph whispered after a few moments of silence. "I'll protect you," he declared with conviction. "You stay here until I come back to get you, alright? I'm going to go back to the castle – " Joseph waved off his brother's protests. " – and then I'll come right back when everything is safe. I promise."

"But you need to promise that you'll stay here," he added. "Promise me that you will. Please."

Ralph clenched his fists tightly, wanting nothing more than to follow his brother. But he couldn't, he knew. He would just be a disadvantage to his brother; he would be nothing but a burden. So, with regret and worry in his heart, he crossed pinkies with Joseph, his rather stout, little one contrasting against the longer, slimmer one.

Smiling wistfully, and with one last look towards his younger brother, Joseph turned towards the castle to which he was heading back. Then without another word, he shot off towards Hogwarts.

Hours later, a mud-stained Ralph would hear the cheers of victory and run back, ready to berate his brother for leaving him. He would run blindly past the rows of the fallen, not looking for anyone other than Joseph. Then he would abruptly catch sight of a familiar figure laying peacefully on the ground out of the corner of his eye. His heart would stop, briefly, and then numbness would flood his veins.

Ralph would kneel beside his dead brother's body – not crying, but mumbling words that no one else would understand.

"You promised. You promised. You promised you'd come back…"

* * *

Wanda Witherspoon, owner of 'Wanda's Wondrous Witch-Wear', rushed towards her old school, the previously beautiful and peaceful Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Over the past year, she had heard horrifying stories of Death Eaters and the torture they had inflicted on the students. At first, Wanda had doubted – after all, Hogwarts was a known haven for the young wizards. However, once the Death Eaters themselves had started roaming the streets of Hogsmade and brutally robbing the homes of the poor Muggleborns that lived there, she had started to believe.

And despise.

In fact, she herself had taken in some refugees off the streets – three young children, to be specific. They had been beaten and spat on by passersby as they begged for food in the alley beside her modest shop. As a mother and grandmother herself, her heart could not bear to stand by and watch such abuse.

But there was no hope or mercy in Wizarding England anymore.

So she had fed them and cared for them the best as she could – and at the moment, they were hiding inside her attic as she rushed rapidly towards the castle.

There was nothing she could hope to do but help.

Hoisting her robes up with her frail wrists, Wanda nimbly hopped over the debris at the gates and pulled her wand out; she was ready to fight. Ready to fight for her daughter, locked up in Azkaban prison for her mother's bloodline; ready to fight for her grandsons, out on the run from a certain life filled with pain and torture; and most of all, ready to fight for what the Wizarding World used to be.

Ducking down to avoid a flash of green light, Wanda caught sight of a young boy on the floor, dimmed blue eyes open and glassy. A deep sorrow gripped her heart for the boy who had never gotten a chance to live. Inching over beside him, she gently closed his eyes for him, and planted a kiss on each pale eyelid.

"Rest in peace, my dear boy. May those whom you love live blessed and happy lives in return for the one that was taken from you."

For a brief second, she grieved for him.

As she moved to get up, Wanda noticed a flash of movement around the corner. Her fingers swiftly grasped her wand and shot out a Stunning Spell. It missed.

It only took one more flash of light, and her old body fell mercilessly onto the hard ground next to him. In one single moment of kindness, her gentle life was stolen.

No one was around to close her eyes for her.

* * *

Out of the fifty who died during the Great Battle of Hogwarts, only a select few were hailed as heroes.

The rest lay forgotten.


End file.
